Shadowrealm
by Venotorus likes Scones
Summary: *Post series AU fic* It has been two years after the Twins have fulfilled their prophecy; saving the world at the destruction of Danu Talis. Dr John Dee, having barely escaped with his life now finds himself again facing death. Will he escape this time?
1. A Note for the Reader

Disclaimers~~~

This is just a fanfic collab. In no way, shape or form do we own the Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel, or its characters. Its proper owner goes to Michael Scott ©-

all rights reserved.

Other than that, we hope you enjoy this more than we do! (Writing is a pain to be honest lol) And if you spot and errors- grammar-wise, character-wise, my face-wise, just let us know!

This fanfic is to take place post-series; around a year or two after the whole Danu Talis drama. At this point with the final installment of the Enchantress (OH YEAHH) coming out in less than a month –this story isn't going to be finished in time before the REAL ending to the series is released, so there's a good chance this fanfic will end unfinished. It'll make no sense at all by next year, so just a warning.

Summary: The story mainly stars Machiavelli and Billy as they set off on a perilous journey to save John Dee from his impossible situation; locked up in an unknown shadowrealm and guarded by the most horrid monsters imaginable.

With no directions and little help, it'll take much more than wits to crack this one. Soon it becomes clear that the mission is much more than just saving a former enemy-

It's a mission to save the world. And time is already running out.

The title might change later on, -audience rating as well as the story progresses: aka themes of torture and mild violence

Hmm, that's it I think. Hate it, like it, review it, do whatever you want. It's a fanfic people, not a galloping unicorn.

Enjoy! :D


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Dr John Dee opened his eyes, a headache throbbing at the back of his head. He blinked once, twice, three times. The gloom around him cleared gradually, blurry images of his surroundings starting to make sense.

He licked his lips slowly, tasting the metallic taste of blood, and the more gentle essence of moisture from the earth.

He was in a cage, lying on its floor; he knew it at the moment he saw the grey metal poles looming around him. The scent that reminded him of a damp cave marred the air with musty unseen vapor. The cage was oddly swaying, and Dee wasn't sure if it was the cage itself, or him, that was bobbing from side to side, like... almost like...

He peered warily beyond the bars, trying to orient himself. Abruptly, he understood where he was. A huge, long cave, so long he couldn't see its end, contained hundreds of cages like his. Each small narrow cage was hung on a thin metal chain, attached to the cave's ceiling by a rusty hook. A single torch, ignited with yellow flames, was hovering in the air just a few meters away from Dee's cage, painting the closest cave wall and the cages with sallow light.

Dee's eyes snapped open with horror, now realizing the full meaning of this situation. Oh, now he was in trouble. Real trouble.

Trying to understand if he was hurt or not, Dee examined his body. He was still in the evening tuxedo he wore only yesterday night, still wearing his black leather shoes and silver watch.

The time was 1:07 a.m. But that meant he was unconscious for... for how long?

Another question popped up in his mind. How _did_ he get there? Where was he?

Dee shook his head, trying to orient himself in the endless space.

Something crept around him, hidden in the shadows.

"Enjoying?" a voice boomed around him, ricocheting from wall to wall, mocking him as it gradually faded. "What a shame..." the voice laughed at him. "And I thought you were one of our best men."

Dee raised an eyebrow in a silent question

"Where am I?" Dee demanded, glad to notice his voice wasn't shaky.

"Ah... where are you indeed?" the voice asked gleefully. "Why don't you take a look around you? What does this place seem like to you?"

Dee's eyes narrowed. He hated being toyed with.

"A prison," he hissed into the dark.

"See? That wasn't so hard. Yes indeed... you are imprisoned. John Dee. I heard many things about you."

"Who are you?" wondered Dee aloud.

"Just a lowly guard..." the voice explained quietly. "But the _only_ guard. No one can escape me," he added proudly, "For I am Cerberus!" the voice suddenly roared, the low shaky tone of a thousand dogs barking and howling thundered across the cave.

Dee bit the inside of his cheeks. In-as-much as the Elders have decided to leave him to the mercy of Cerberus, the Hound of Three Faces, they must want him to stay locked up. For the time being.

"Why am I here?" he asked loudly, his own voice now echoing across the endless gloomy space.

"Ah..." Cerberus snarled pleasantly. "I bet you'd like to know. But that's for the elders to tell you, not me. But don't you worry." Dee could actually hear the smile in that saying. "They aren't planning to kill you very soon."

Dee swallowed hard. Whatever his Elder masters planned for him, it wasn't going to be pleasant. He combed his ruffled hair with his fingers, tying it up into a thick ponytail on his nape. When he removed his fingers away from his head, he saw the merest trace of red liquid.

Where was he? Why was he there? What happened?


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Machiavelli needed a place, an outlet more so, where he could enjoy the small pleasures in life. Recruiting near the beach was a little too much for his tastes and he wasn't too partial towards the idea of living in the West coast of California; no, not after that whole fiasco near the city and being trapped on that god forsaken-…he shook his head and composed himself.

He knew that after those events, most if not _all_ Immortals were affected by the change. They were freed. Freed from their oppressors, their masters; the Dark Elders, for good. Changed for better or for worse the Italian couldn't say himself, but one thing was certain: there was absolutely no one to direct them any longer.

_He_ had changed.

Sure, he had always been set when it came to siding with the humans over the Dark Elders, -before he decided to even print out the spells of death for the monsters. But _after_, after those events on the island was when he realized how much he had overlooked the world around him… to truly appreciate how far the human race has come and after all it had offered him. Now there was not much left for him to do but to give back.

And give back he did.

Not only had he taken part in a plot that had saved millions, possibly the whole world, -his actions would be a footprint in history for the insightful Immortals and Elders. Showing them that he wasn't afraid to sacrifice himself for humanity was human in itself; something most of _them_ had completely lost, forgotten, and tossed away. He was and still is an idol, hoping his influence on the world would convince generations to come that interference on humanity by the Dark Elders would be a spell for disaster. But the Immortal wasn't done there. After the prophecy of the Twins had been fulfilled, the world of Danu Talis destroyed, and the Dark Elders ridden from any hopes of gaining control of the world, the Italian immediately stepped down from his position as head of the French Police and prepared for years for an active role in Italy's government. He wasn't too regretful of his decision to abdicate; he still had his villa back in Paris which he could access whenever he felt like.

But looking at a bigger picture of things; his own home country, formerly declining home country he added, -was in apparent need of more experienced leaders. He wasn't looking for a position as the Vatican pope for God's sake…A position, major or minor in the country's department of commerce was good enough. He'd then work his way to the top from there. The plan was marvelous; he wouldn't have to show his face for the media even once.

Just the thought of it brings back many heartfelt memories, both good and bad from his' serving in the court of Florence centuries past.

Not pointing out the many of savagery back then; the scandals, overthrows, and assassinations from the former life, his job now would be a cakewalk.

But before he would finally depart to Italy and initiate his future plans, Machiavelli would focus on contemporary matters; spending the next few weeks in total relaxation.

He smiled, for he is now un-contactable. At peace. _Isolated_.

He glanced at the man sitting across from him.

Well, almost isolated.

Speaking of isolation, not only was he in the process of hiring a new servant, there was none other than that former outlaw, Billy the Kid. He gave a sigh, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth; he had no choice but to bestow the young American his well-deserved apprenticeship, -not an easy thing to achieve from the immortal Italian himself at that.

Never had he taken in an apprentice of his own accord. Of course his master gave him orders here and there during his service to teach recently awakened humani, -in fact his last trainee had been Mike Wallace, broadcasting legend of America back in the 60s, -but here, having Billy as an apprentice… not only a hassle mentally and emotionally, but also a definite no-no for a man like himself who has meticulously kept his persona so mysterious, cold, and free of as many mistakes as possible.

And yet, after enrolling the (rather uneducated) boy into a proper college just 2 months ago, he still had no regrets for having taken the Kid under his wing. Famous or not, it was his true and promising character that stood out so much for Machiavelli. Billy being true to himself was what thus made him the deadly and renowned outlaw in the end.

The ice cubes tinkled and swished around in their glasses as Machiavelli walked out onto the veranda of his home. He had recently bought it specially located in Baltimore, Maryland, just a stride's ride away from its glorious bay. He admitted he was looking for a comfortable place that would provide him good inspiration in-hand with his new job- a nice place to think and relax without the region being _too_ desolate.

He set the two glasses of lemon tea onto the table and settled down into a white wicker chair, focusing on the man in front of him rather than the nice view of the area. It was Spring. Every tree around the neighborhood was in bloom and the air crisp and nicer than he could ever experience back in Paris-

A breeze carried small petals over the porch and far off down the length of the driveway. Though this spring was rather unusual…

Because of the chill Machiavelli couldn't help but allow a bit of his aura pour some warmth through his body.

"You cold?" his guest asked, breaking the silence with chuckles; low noises that sounded like the distant roar of waves descending upon a shore.

The Italian leaned back in his chair and crossed his right leg over the other. "It's just so windy this afternoon that's all," the Italian muttered, sweeping his gaze from the man to the yard. "Is it not usually warm in America during this time of the year?"

The figure sitting across from him thought for a bit and shrugged. "It is odd for such an afternoon in March to be cold. But with global warming, what would you expect these days?"

His controlled voice reminded Machiavelli of the deep rumbles of an approaching storm, imminent and powerful.

"True" The Italian kept his eyes on the streets below.

He made a little note in the back of his mind to encourage Billy to study a bit more of modern biology. If not the Elders who would've killed them all then it shall surely be humanity itself that causes the world's demise. Nothing can be done to reverse what has already been dug up from the ground and dissolved into the air, millions of barrels in fossil fuels released without pause. It would be something miraculous if an Alchemyst of some sort happens to find a reverse process for that. Not counting the legendary Alchemyst Nicholas Flamel though; for he was dead.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Dee straightened his back, arching it backwards with a sigh.

Cerberus was gone, or at least he thought so. The thundering voice was now gone, leaving him alone to worry over his fate.

The sound of water drumming water echoed around him as small water globules dropped from the ceiling, down into the shadows below hitting what Dee guessed was another source of water.

He closed his eyes tiredly, trying to call his memories of what he thought was last night, but he couldn't concentrate, something else was occupying his attention.

It was the shadow; moving swiftly and quietly around him. Dee blinked in surprise. It wasn't a shadow; it was fog, or smoke. Thick, gossamer smoke flowed around him shifting rapidly. A vague shape of a hound's head formed from behind. Two brightly lit eyes stared at him, pouring white light onto his figure. Like a deer frozen in the headlights.

"Doctor... you're in quite a mess..." Cerberus' voice boomed. The creature solidified in front of him, the black mass of smoke centering itself at the rim of the cage. Muscles were suddenly visible; showing brutal shapes of strength and bone, legs adorned with three claws each, a long, sweeping tail, and a large muscled body. The head quickly condensed, revealing the true charm of the creature. A head of a hound stared right at Dee, bald black bone gleaming slightly in the dark. Two holes occupied with strange white pebbles lit the creature's perfect jaws, where lines of razor sharp teeth covered with black foamy saliva were perfectly ordered.

The mesmerizing creature was translucent; made of nothing but waves of airy fog, darkness and fears.

When the creature opened its mouth to speak, ghostlike saliva poured slowly onto the floor of the cage, rolling towards the man slumped at the rear of it.

Dee winced back. The black fog was cold. So cold, that at its touch his skin instantly turned blue.

"The Elders are trying to decide whether to torture you _now_ or in a few hours... after you become cold... hungry... scared..." Cerberus savored each word delightedly before letting it out into the open space. The cage vibrated with each word the creature pronounced, sending cold shudders across Dee's spine.

"They wouldn't dare," Dee said aloud, hoping his own voice would encourage him.

Cerberus' laugh was bitter. It was like a drum was rolling across the wall, thundering and shaky. "There are fewer things than you could imagine the Elders would not dare to do... one of them _isn't_ your protection."

"Enough." It was like a warm breeze has suddenly erupted out of nowhere. The torch still hovering in Dee's sight flickered and flared, its light dancing wildly at the abrupt wind.

"Return to the shadows, creature of death," the voice spat. Cerberus muttered gently, and silently returned to the shadows of the cave, where the light of the single torch didn't reach.

"The Elders have decided a temporary punishment for your crimes, Dr. John Dee." Dee blinked in surprise. A man's voice echoed around him, warm and young. Somehow, that voice was vaguely familiar.

Dee stood up on his knees, his head brushing softly the ceiling of the cage. Swallowing hard, trying to keep his voice calm and steady, he spoke. "And what would that be?"

"We are trying to find traitors, such as you," the voice explained emotionlessly. "Knowledge is what we seek, and people who have knowledge are a valuable tool."

"Indeed they are..." Dee murmured uncomfortably. He despised being treated as some kind of tool that can be simply thrown away.

In the past, he had been serving the Elders. Unquestioning. Loyal. The Elders championed him over others; he was their royal servant, or as few had claimed; a useful tool.

A useful tool.

Too many times he has been called a tool, a weapon. He was pushed to the edges of his sanity because of the Elders, and since the events that took place at San Francisco's bay... he wouldn't let himself be used again. _Ever._

Ever since he escaped the California area, he was on the run, eluding the Dark Elders remaining servants, finishing arguments and fights before they even started. He had had to be cautious about his every move; even the slightest whiff of his aura would have attracted any Elder and Immortal in the continent there.

And then... Dee shook his head in anger. Something wrong occurred at a small dinner party. Only he couldn't remember anything from that night; where, when and how. Was he with someone? Had he been accompanied at the event?

Suddenly, the door to the cage opened with a click. Dee stirred awake, away from his thoughts, and his eyes snapped open in horror. He immediately fled backwards

A wry smile spread on his lips.

It had been a very, very long time, since he felt as terrified as he was now. He could actually feel the fear and terror coursing its way through his veins, freezing his limbs, sticking an expression on his face stuck between horror and forced bravery.

A hand jumped out of the shadows, thin and white, covered with a translucent black glove, grasping his somewhat scorched tie, pulling him towards the rim of the cage. Two dark gray eyes stared at him fiercely. Behind them, Dee was able to sense only one thing; Anger.

"I wouldn't feel any relief now... certainly not hope..." the voice hissed. Dee's expression was probably satisfying, because the figure hidden in the shadows laughed lightly, his laughter bouncing from wall to wall, airy and freed.

"Do you remember me?" the figure demanded.

"No," Dee whispered quietly. He didn't know him. Unfortunately, he couldn't even try to remember, now realizing only that the voice was familiar, but he had never seen that man before. The hand brought him even closer, and now he was able to see the vaguest hint of a smile smeared on its pale face.

"John..." the young man whispered slowly, eyes distant in the past, "If you only knew what I had in store for you..."


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N:

If I spent years of research on the SINF series (which I won't) -trying to pin down and adopt every aspect of Dare this chapter would still be far from legit. It never will be!

Heck I wish I could find a better way to rewrite the whole thing, but hey, this is a fanfic. People. Nothing for us to get too worked up about.

If there are any mistakes, grammar or character-wise (_plenty_ mistakes lol I'll give you a cyber cookie for each one ya find) –please feel free to tell me.

Haters, torches, flames- all welcome buddy.

And as always, the wonderful SINF series belongs to no other than Michael Scott. We do not own the books or anything in them; characters, settings etc. All we own is a good spoonful of insanity.

Adios

**Chapter 4**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dare~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virginia Dare, Mistress of the Forest, found herself thrown headfirst into the bustling city of New York just months after her quick 'drop-in' (literally) at Danu Talis; which she barely managed to escape with a delirious and damaged John Dee. She quickly cut off all connections with the mentally unstable Doctor, swearing upon her very flute to never deal with the cursed man again. Upon her arrival to Virginia, her home, sanctuary, and source of happiness, she found herself wildly sobbing in uncontainable happiness when she saw her lonely tent folded in the very bush where she had left it.

Now here she was in New York, curled up on a brown leather sofa with her laptop. Looking up the latest urban fashion trends.

She wondered for quite a long time ab**o**ut whether to accept or decline her job offer as a fashion critique. It was maybe too soon; she had just gotten back and needed a bit more time to settle her nerves, enjoying every moment of her life in the forests as if she would never see them again.

But by the end of the week she had to choose; stay as a hermit in the outskirts of civilization forever, or get to know a bit more about the country of her birth. Needless to say, Dare was reluctant to travel after having gone through so many leygates in the shortest amount of time possible.

But she moved anyway. And finding herself in New York took some great adjusting to.

First of all, there were people.

Most of them (except for those well dressed and fashionable) she imagined to be nothing more than weak, disgusting, simple-minded beasts, who she'd rather have as slaves building her empire under the heel of her boot than have to walk by on her way to work every week.

She always made sure to have her aura surround her like invisible bubble wrap- to keep people at least a couple inches distance from her whenever she went out.

The second thing she found a bit annoying to her about the city was a lack of direction. In the forest, any forest really, she could easily survive as long as she had her flute and natural acute senses to guide her; after decades of studying the environment she could alone locate the nearest source of water within an incredible 20 mile range, make a decent vegetable soup (spices and all), and craft an entire one person canoe out of sturdy oak, all in one day- and without having to ask a single one of her animal friends for directions as how-to.

She could sense that a city was somewhat like a forest, in a way that you could easily get lost… But here, even with all the power her flute possessed she still couldn't locate the nearest subway station without having to ask a greasy human for directions.

Many times she asked herself why and how she could have possibly even considered taking on this cold stuffy place. Maybe it was her past glorious years of experience in Hollywood and its convenient setting that made the image of New York seem such less brutal. After all, she very much missed her fame- but after her many years on the big screen she had eventually fake her death, otherwise her undying appearance would've attracted too much suspicion. And courters.

The third thing, and the thing she hated the most was inconvenience. She had to walk to work. If it rained, taxis and subways were the only option. There were house bills and taxes, which she forgot how to handle for a while now. She had a schedule, curfews and deadlines included.

She had to face this kind of crap daily while living in the city.

She was definitely going to hire a maid or two when she gets wealthy enough from the fashion industry.

To say the least, her first year in New York was busy; she could barely find time to herself as she learned how many art galleries and fashion shows required her presence. Getting used to the city was utterly horrible.

_But her job was so worth it_.

While Dare clicked away at the thin keyboard in her spacious living room her cell phone started to ring. The space next to her on the couch vibrated, blasting a shrill tune which was her only means of getting up for work in the morning. She turned her head and looked at the caller ID.

_Billy calling… _the screen showed.

With a neutral expression she reached out her slender arm, pressed the call button, and held the phone up to her ear.

"What."

Her flat, monotone voice was revealing of her true character.

"Hey sis." Dare could practically hear his dumb grin.

"Hey. What do you want" then added irritably "Don't you dare call me that. I have no siblings."

"Oh, alright. _Sistah_. How're you doin? How's the big city?"

"Fine," she replied. With her free hand she scrolled down from the image of an expensive tan jacket to a pair of matching high-heeled boots. "Yeah, fine. Anyway, _what do you want?_"

"Boy, you sound excited" he mumbled before continuing,

"I'm just checking up on my sis, -there ain't nothin' wrong with that."

"Whatever. How's school?" She looked at her watch. "Shouldn't you be in class or something?"

"Oh, uh, no not today- I got the day off."

"You're not skipping classes are you?" She quickly demanded

"No, I-"

"After what Niccolo did for you, you better be passing your classes you little ingrate," she butt in, raising her voice.

"Oh-ho," Billy whispered, nodding to himself "Nic _makes sure_ I do. He checks my grades 'least once a week. Every_day_ during exams."

Virginia huffed. "Wow. I'm surprised…" She clicked a link which opened a picture of a close-up of Angelina Jolie's face.

"With your intention span, I'm surprised that he has any hope for you at all."

She heard Billy grumble on the other side.

"I'm not callin' just to hear you make fun of me," he bit his lip thinking of a quick retort, "-well what are _you_ doing now? I'd give two pennies for a bet if you're doing anything more productive than I am over here-"

"I'm shopping."

Billy got up from his xbox chair and sauntered across his dorm room like an irritated cat. He stopped midway through striding and opened his mouth as to declare something, but then snapped it shut and sighed. He unconsciously sifted his fingers through his sandy hair in frustration. Man, by the grease that gathered he was definitely going to have to take a shower soon.

He suddenly got an idea, a good one. "When do you have off?" He asked in an excited rush.

Virginia gave a pant of laughter. "Like I would know! Never…-I'd have to convince my manager to give me a break, and being a rising fashion designer, Billy, it's not going to work out."

Billy wondered what could possibly keep her busy. He imagined her sitting in a chair right now, applying make-up to her face.

"But…" he protested,

"I got Spring Break starting Friday this week, and I get 3 weeks off!" He paused, he wasn't giving up this fast. "So then, do you have any plans _this_ week?"

Virginia's mouth hung open at his inquiry.

"Are you asking me out?"

She heard a snort from the other side as the Kid held back his laughter.

"Maybe in the next life," he joked, but then went on. "Can we go to that shadow realm we went to last summer? What was the name…I-"

"Sure, maybe, if I have time." She suddenly paused. Wait, _….no. _

Her hair rose, literally, as her aura sent thin trickling waves of energy through her arms and shoulders. She could barely keep herself from screaming, which was a feat to be praised of, since she never had secure control of her temper.

"Oh hell no, **NO**. We're not going there this time!"

Before Billy could object she continued shrilly, "You don't learn from your mistakes _DO YOU_? You remember the last time-? No, I'm not taking you anywhere with me, -not until Niccolo teaches you some decent method on how to protect yourself." Billy was sitting on the ground now rendered speechless.

"I'm not saving your ass like the last time. GOD. I can't fight all your battles for you." '_Blah, blah blah_' was pretty much the only thing Billy could comprehend after that before she finally finished.

"You can't even tell where the natives bury there land mines." She ended flippantly.

"But how the heck can you even tell? They're **land mines**,-"

"NO. I'm keeping my word- until you get some proper training you're not going anywhere with me."

Billy let himself fall backwards onto his bed. "No wonder you're so lonely," he huffed. "You may be pretty and all on the outside, but once someone gets close to your space you're no better than a raging bull."

"For your info, it's called 'Independent woman'. And there are a lot of things you don't understand. _Many_ things. " she defended herself stiffly. "One of them is Beauty. And what do you know about beauty, _you_ of all people? Haha, _nothing_. Let me make it clear; I'm the most_ desirable_ woman on _Earth_!"

*click*

Eyebrow raised, Billy looked at his phone and tossed it to the side next to him.

"_More like the biggest bitch."_

A/N: That's the only curse you'll hear from him! I swear…..-I think Billy's the most innocent immortal in the series. Other than the whole western dueling outlaw thing.


End file.
